The Vengeful Mission
by Rock n' roll addict
Summary: Her teammates nearly beat her death and left her to die. But she didn't die, she lived. Everday her scars remind her of what she'll do when she tracks each of them down. There will be Max flock included.
1. The Wreckage

**First FF in a long time, people! This idea has been simmering for a while and I'd thought I'd give it a shot. Enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: Max and her gang ain't mine (I **_**wish**_**). All the other characters are mine, though. **

I can't move. I can't believe it. Nothing will be the same again.

Everywhere my battered blood cells were mashed purple where tan skin should've been. I glanced up at the small camp through my not swollen eye, but it was already blasted to smithereens with a few traces of burned bodies and smoldering rubble. The smoke flowed upward in great columns, ashes dancing as they raised toward the orange sherbet skies. Judging for the sunlight, I was out for three hours, give or take.

I crinkled my nose, disgusted by the putrid odor. God, I don't think I'll ever forget that smell… the stench of scorched flesh and death. Although I was about 200 yards away, it still filled my nostrils. That smell always makes my stomach acid churn and take a nose-dive all at the same time.

Usually, I lead these kinds of missions against combative enemies and rivals where I feel no regret whatsoever – everyone had a stained soul from the sins they have done and murdered a few people themselves. Each one of them deserved it just as I probably deserve it now. It was my job to kill them before they killed me. But this time, it was kids that got destroyed. They did nothing wrong. They were completely innocent. And now they're all dead.

Attempting to push myself into an upright position, pain shot through my right arm and I thudded face-down into the browned grass. My bones felt like they splintered and the sensation sent electrical zaps to my brain.

Processing…

Processing…

Fuck! Pain.

Salty sweat dripped off my brow, strips of hair pasted onto my face. I tongued the corner of my split lip and tasted caked coppery blood. As I rocked my head to the side, I could see that the little puddle of blood I spit out before was still there, dark and dried. With a grunt, I tore my ID badge off the front of my jacket with a rip and chucked that sucker in a fire about 3 feet away. I watched the numbers I knew as well as my name melt into iron goo. Screw my so-called teammates. Screw The Solution. Screw them all. My head felt like sickles were stuck in it and my mind water-logged as my vision blurred slowly into a gray wash.

I heard footsteps thudding on the hard ground and a voice shout, "Holy shit! One's still alive! Help her!" Then everything went black.

**Yeah, I know it's a short chap, but I'm getting there. Reviews would be awesome. **


	2. The Rebirth

**What's up my fellow fanfic readers and viewers! I'm sorry my ass has been draggin' in this part, but college shit and Italy waits for no man… or woman. **

**I've put flashback sequences that I've labeled as 1,2, etc. Just read them like they're quick clips of scenes put together like consecutive memories. Flashback 5 and 6 overlap for emphasis. It's a long and kind of experimental explanation of this character's past. I hope I did it justice! Someone tell me if the writing seems inconsistent 'cause I kind of wrote those over a wide time interval. Peace out! **

The good thing about R.E.M. sleep is that it paralyzes your body while you dream. If that didn't happen, I think I would've bashed myself to death even more…

"Airie," called a small child's voice. The sound echoed down the seemingly endless cement corridors. "Airie, look at me," floated through my ears. Wait, I know that voice.

I turned around and there was Amelia. She was looking at me with bloodshot eyes through the cylindrical glass, her pink hands squished against it. My stomach recoiled from the sickening chemical smell; I could tell what the murky fluid her body was submerged in – formaldehyde. Her wings were limp and had a pinkish tinge to them. They seemed to be molting.

My heart ached. I missed her so much, but her appearance half nauseated and frightened me. Her skin was beige and rubbery, permanently in the state of being pruned. Her long blonde hair waved wildly in the giant tube like Medusa's. _She's dead. This is not real, she's dead_. Amelia would've been my age right now… if she wasn't put to sleep when we were only three.

"Airie," she sighed at me, "did you go against orders again?" I nodded solemnly down at my combat shoes, definitely not where I would find any answers.

"They were going after children," I said with a stern tone. Rushing water coming from somewhere in the ceiling filled my ears as I realized that we were somewhere underground. "I can't just let them kill innocents, can I?"

She giggled impishly. "Of course not silly, it's not right to kill children."

This statement sent ice-cold shivers down my spine. The irony that I was talking to a murdered child froze my mind for a second. My team and I weren't introduced to each other until we were all about nine and I kind of wiped out my memories to focus on the missions. Everything was too painful to remember. I was a totally different person before I met them…

**Flashback 1**

"Airie, are we going to be best friends forever?" Amelia (alive Amelia) asked me, eyes full of excitement.

"Best friends forever, Amelio Vanillio," I assured her and stuck out my fist for our secret handshake: the pound it, lock it. We both bumped fists then turned them together so that our thumbs were facing up, like a turnkey. "Nothing's gonna tear us apart."

My ears perked. _Knock. Knock_.

"Who's there?" we hollered.

No answer.

"Dr. Pepper, perhaps?" I offered. Amelia stifled a chuckle. The steel door's tumblers unlocked with a loud clink as the knob turned.

"Very funny, girls." Dr. Francis commented as she glided into our room, her long white lab coat flashed in the lamplight with each step.

"Well, I thought so." I remarked with my arms crossed.

Dr. Francis went down on her knees to be eye-level with us and smiled. "Amelia, sweetie, can I see your pretty necklace, please?"

Amelia bowed her head and unclasped the dog tags from around her neck, handing it to her. "Here you go."

"Thanks," muttered Dr. Francis as she slid a new charm onto the metal-balled chain, a smiley face. Mentally, I gasped. Smiley face charms meant that you were slated for termination: put to sleep. Talk about a serious euphemism.

Dr. Francis snapped the necklace back on and the smiley face seemed to beam at me over the dog tags. Amelia just clapped her hands happily and wrapped her arms around Dr. Francis' neck for a hug. My mind went blank. She didn't know what was going on.

No reason to worry her. Sometimes it's better not to know when it's your time to go.

Afterwards, we played a little and Dr. Francis read us some of "The Odyssey" by Homer with the brave Odysseus slaying monster after monster. Before she left us to go to sleep for the night, she placed a stack of Greek philosophy books on the edge of the nightstand. When Amelia and I went to pound and lock it, I struggled not to cry, not to bawl my eyes out.

"What's wrong, Airie?" she asked with sweet concern.

"Nothing… I'm just happy nothing bad happened today." I finished, managing fake enthusiasm. My heart was painfully crackling open that this would be the last time I would speak to my best friend. She nodded and slipped under he blankets on the lower bunk while I climbed the mini ladder to the higher one.

"G'night, Airie." Amelia prompted sleepily.

"G'night Ameles."

That was the last time I saw her.

When she was gone, Alex was moved into our/my room. He was four years older than me.

**Flashback 2**:

"Don't you do it, you little shit! Get your ass away from the edge right now!" the Corporal yelled at Alex. Alex shook his head in defiance and stepped closer to the edge of the cliff.

"Alexander the Great takes shit from no man, sir. Especially not from the likes of you, sir." Alex motioned his head to our stout commander, whose face was now boiling red with supreme anger. It looked like his scraggly toupe was going to blow right off the top of his head. I watched with interest.

Alex and I were being transferred from Base D to Base A for further combative training and learning the art of building small explosive devices. But, as you can see, the officers were having a little trouble taming this twelve year old boy.

**Flashback 3**:

The reflection of light off Alex's tear winked at me as a realized that my comrade was crying. His hair covered his face and I could hear despairing sobs escape from his lips. Alex hugged himself into a ball, knees up and face buried in his arms, right next to that same cliff he was fooling around just three days ago.

He had no shirt and I could see those red angry scars on his back. They glared at me like two demonic eyes. Those bastards had given him the worst punishment that they could!

They surgically removed his beautiful wings.

I crouched down at the side of my friend and gently rubbed his back. Automatically, as if on cue, Alex tried to slow his breathing in clumsy gulps and wiped his wet tears on his bear arms.

"They took 'em, Airheart…" his throat was still thick with tears, "They fuckin' stole my wings." A stray tear ran down Alex's cheek even as he said this.

**Flashback 4**:

"Alex! Don't!" I begged, "Please don't do it! Pleeeease!" My stomach felt like it just jumped into my throat. Alex grimly shook his head as he stared longingly down the unknown bottom of that cliff. It seemed like he looked forward to its sweet nothingness.

A cold feeling sunk throughout my entire body, through my bloodstream. He'd made up his mind and there was nothing I could do about it. I felt tears burning my eyes like nitric acid. Slowly, a corner of Alex's mouth turned upwards and he gave me a slight nod with the peace of a Hindu cow. The commander stepped forward from the crowd of mutant trainees and officers.

"Boy, you better get your little ass next to me in five seconds! DO YOU READ ME?!"

Ignoring the commander like he always did, Alex told me, "Never let them see you without a smile on your face, Airheart." This is what he said before he took a step off the rocky ledge into the open mouth of death. Alex tumbled down, almost gracefully with that slight grin. He found silent darkness.

**Flashback 5**:

My four teammates and I were standing in front, the general beaming with pride, an immense army of hundreds of mutants behind us. Everyone was dressed in army fatigues, prepared for our first mission to implement miniscule atomic bombs behind enemy lines into top security Russian military bases throughout their country.

General Fronheiser:"Congratulations. You five are the most elite combative students we have ever trained. You as a race are faster, stronger, smarter, than anything that came before you…."

**Flashback 6**:

A dulled leather combat boot smashed into my face. I could hear my nose crack but it felt like it collapsed into a nova of pain, crushing all other messages to my brain. There was a blooming flower of blood on the steel toe that dripped down to the rubber sole. Someone bound my hands behind my back and jerked my right arm as I felt the awkward force nearly pop it out of its socket. _Shit!_

**Flashback 5**:

General Fronheiser: "This program, The Solution, is the next step into the future in bioweapons and bioengineering. You are super soldiers of the next generation who will annihilate your enemies. It is in your nature. It is what we bred you to do…"

**Flashback 6**:

I let my aching broken face lay on the ground as blood and probably CSF drained from the head wounds and closed my eyes. I almost seemed to becoming numb to the pain. Even my organs may have been bruised or possibly burst open. A dark veil slowly drew over my eyes as I heard those combat boots thudding away from me. My teammates had left me to die.

Bright lightning twisted violently and sparked in my brain. I could practically smell the coppery sizzles. There was a static white noise leering in my head like silvery sirens going off. My body convulsed violently. My brains mashed into a hamburger meat smoothie. The shaking continued. It felt like I couldn't breathe anymore and all of my bones and cartilage had shattered into a million microscopic pieces…

Suddenly, everything stopped. My world became absolutely still, caught in space.

Bleep… Bleep… Bleep…

Inside I smiled. I knew that methodic sound of a heart respirator anywhere. It might as well have been a mother's soft coo.

I had been beaten to death and lived.

"Never let them see you without a smile on your face, Airheart," rang pleasantly in my ears as the chaos in the hospital room ensued, alerted to my rebirth – to tend to my wounds, to begin my repair.

Did you know that you can have a thousand dreams in one night without remembering anything about any one of them? I guess that applies to being unconscious. But I remember. That's what sucks about having a photographic memory. And it's going to suck a whole lot more for those fucking backstabbers who tried to murder me. I can only return the favor.

**As you can see, this is definitely an OC. I've worked hard on this, so PLEASE REVIEW your fingers off. Adios. **


	3. The Mission Begins

Disclaimer: JP's flock isn't my idea

**Disclaimer: JP's flock isn't my idea.**

**Now that there's no copyright infringement, let's move on, shall we?**

My mind's a wind up toy. It unwinds as time drags on. Twist the key until it won't budge anymore to set it right, to keep it going. Maybe someday I'll learn the Energizer Bunny's secrets where I won't have to keep twisting that key to still function. Who knows? I sure as hell don't.

The medical machinery lulled dutifully in the background like cicadas on a breezy night. A perfect night for flight. From my right eye, I could see the St. Louis city lights, glittering diamonds strewn across those blocky buildings. That metallic arc looming over most of the city. This touching scenery was bordered by the bland white window frame inside the bland white room where I was laying. I was in the St. Louis City Hospital, which holds one of the world's most accomplished centers for craniofacial surgery. I probably needed it.

Over these past few weeks, when my body was finally completely stable, they tried to reconstruct my face from what was caved in from… well, you know. A few excruciatingly long and dull weeks. Time passed as if minutes were one ton blocks that needed to be pushed from one side of the room to the other. Thank God my tissue regenerates at an exponential rate or else the wait would have been longer. Most of the time, I acted like I was sleeping to defer being bombarded with the whole winged-child issue. Occasionally, a doc would sneak in my room to check out my wings and feathers. If they got too close I pretended to 'sleep' whack 'em. It was hard sometimes not to laugh at the look on their faces.

I shuffled under the generic cotton covers to sitting position, my arms propping me up. The digital clock next to my bed read11:39 PM. Rotating my aching shoulders, I flexed my wings. Time to blow this pop stand.

I started gingerly ripping the IV's out of my veins and changed into my fatigues folded neatly at the foot of my bed. Luckily, my room was at the end so no one had passed my door as of yet. I had to keep quiet, on the balls of my feet, so no one would notice anything out of the ordinary than the consistent soft padding of sneakers against the fake-tiled floors. My stomach was doing flip flops from the sweet, alcoholic smells of the hospital. Fully dressed down to my combat boots, I tugged the last wire out – the heart respirator one – and dashed to the window, jamming it open with a squeak.

BLEEEEEEEEEEP! Flat line.

"Oh my God! Doctors! Patient down, need resuscitation!" ordered an urgent anonymous female voice. The sound of pattering footsteps were getting louder and becoming collective like the buzzing of a hive. Jittery adrenaline spilled into my bloodstream as I crouched awkwardly onto the narrow windowsill, leaning halfway forward so my wings wouldn't hit the window piece above.

The air outside was cool and refreshing on my skin. I took a breath, leaned over and fell… I fell like Adam with the peaceful look on his face. The lights and sounds of the street were coming closer at an alarming rate as I whizzed past the building's walls, practically scraping my fingernails against them… Then, WHOOSH! I snapped my powerful wings out and caught the current about fifty feet above the ground, the wind gently blowing my hair back and ruffling my feathers. Ow! I sucked in a deep breath. Everything still felt like a four on a scale of one to ten in the hurt department.

I could hear constant echoing of police sirens ringing in my ears down below. I smiled. _Never let them see you without a smile on your face, Airheart_.

It felt like I could finally breathe.

I flapped to gain altitude over the tallest buildings, pointing the tips of my wings northeast. That's where I needed to go. Destination: Base A, base of Central Intelligence and housing to top 'soldiers'. Finally, off to Maine we go!

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**Flashback**

"Team, stop! We can't do this." I demanded over the sound of wind whooshing past us, convinced in my decision. The target was in site at approximately 500 yards away. Momentarily, everyone stopped and hovered.

"Why not, Airheart? For crying out loud, you're acting like it's your first mission." Damian gave me a what-the-fuck look.

"There's no gain in killing kids. It's just wrong. They did nothing and right now they're not a threat to us." I crossed my arms and gave him my steely stare. He readily returned it. Strike one.

"They're the future competition, Airheart, you know that," put in Andrea, "getting rid of them now would save The Solution a whole lot of trouble later." Her ponytail was whipping behind her as she gave me an expectant look with her dark eyes. I shook my head. Strike two.

Flapping angrily over to me, David stated, annoyed, "Search and destroy Camp 1, 2, and 3 of Military All-Purpose Prepatory Program is our mission. You accepted it like the rest of us." I could feel all of their eyes steadily probing and piercing mine.

"That was before I found out all participants in said camps are between the ages of five and fourteen!" I nearly shouted, leaning toward him, indicating my dominance as team captain. Strike three.

There was a quick movement behind me. Automatically, my forearm came up; blocking a punch aimed right at my temple and pushed it to the side. I looked back to see who my attacker was.

"What the hell, Jason?!" I asked, pretty much frothing at the mouth.

Jason gave me a defiant and condescending smirk that made me want to smash his nose in. "Rule 34: In the event of a captain does not participate in a mission, experiment is to be terminated and leadership role is passed on to the next highest rank."

My heart dropped into my stomach and I became very aware of my teammates circling around me, cutting off all angles. I shot Jason a look that I wished would sizzle into his corneas. It was stupid, really. It was stupid to think that I could call them my friends, and at in our little small world, friends were family. I balled up my fists, ready to fight, ready to strangle the life out of his pale-ass pencil neck. As if on cue, each one of us switched into our fighting stances like a well-oiled machine. We were trained well.

Jason continued. "There can't be any rebels in The Solution. All who don't comply are subjected to instant termination just like the failures. Rules are rules." Jason shrugged and his smirk grew wider. "Besides," he said, "I've always wanted to know what it'd be like to be captain."

"I'm sorry, Airheart, but it has to be done." Andrea murmured, regretfully.

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"Godammit!" I roared out loud, punching nothing but air. With nothing to do but plan the attack and fly all day, my mind kept wandering back to their betrayal, kept dazing out to relive every miniscule detail. Images were swirling around in overwhelming waves in my head. Even with the chill wind wisping through my clothes, my whole body felt like millions of burning hot needles was twisting in my skin. I was royally pissed.

The deep scars on my arms kept glaring angrily up at me. All I can do is stare back at those them and feel cold hatred solidifying in my chest. It just kept building. One on my left hand looked like a set of grotesque puckered brown lips. It made me feel disgusted of how butchered my body must look. I never saw my whole self yet and was kind of afraid of what I'd see.

_Fucking assholes! How could they do this to me! After all the shit we went through together and they still did it!_ I knew that they could do it, but I never thought that they _would_ do it to **me**.

It all stung so bad. All the trust I had in the world deteriorated like a battle between a sandcastle and a tsunami. Demolished.

_I'm sorry, Airheart… I'm sorry, Airheart…Rules are rules…_ was the never-ending echo ringing in my ears. It haunted me. It made my blood boil. It was consuming me…

_Keep thinking about _your_ mission, girl. Relax and be smart._

Taking a deep breath, I cemented myself. Cool as a cucumber.

The gleaming sun was falling past the blood colored sky, painting everything red. My watch read 7:21 AM. I was over Lake Michigan and spotted a secluded woodsy area in the middle, ample for a campsite. Disappointingly, there seemed to already be campers on the lake-island. The ash and smoke drifted up with the hot air, away from the glowing fire. I can smell the firewood cinders. Flying right above the site and the tall pines, something caught my eye. Can I say that raptor vision is uber-useful?

The campers were kids. The kids had wings.

Interesting…

**PLEASE REVIEW and PLEASE CRITISIZE!!**


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